Sapphire Blue: MarySue Extraordinaire
by Kara's Aunty
Summary: Sapphire Blue. Outrageously gorgeous, unbelievably desirable, terrifically talented, and completely head-over-heels with the object of every Mary-Sue's affection. If only she could get hit by a truck and fall into Middle Earth ...
1. Introducing Sapphire Blue

**Disclaimer:** Lord of the Rings is not mine. Unfortunately. I can claim ownership of nothing and no one more than Sapphire Blue and her family. Anything recognisable belongs to JRRT and I am certainly not profiting from it in any way. Anything crap belongs to me (and I'm not profiting from that either, more's the pity).

**Credit: **www dot Tuckborough dot net, Merin Essi ar Quenteli!, various other websites including Wedgwood, gotateenager, designerwear.

*** **Rated for language

**Sapphire Blue: Mary-Sue Extraordinaire**

**Chapter One**

* * *

Sapphire Blue, sixteen years old and stunningly beautiful, sat on the edge of her bed brushing her long coppery locks. Her startlingly blue eyes were fixed on a poster of Legolas Greenleaf, as portrayed in the Peter Jackson movies by Orlando Bloom, which was tacked to the opposite wall. It was her favourite possession: the first thing she saw when she woke each morning, and the last thing she saw at night.

Resplendent in the greys and greens of his people, the Mirkwood 'elf' stood tall and proud, gripping his Lothlórien bow in one hand and gazing expectantly ahead, almost as if he sensed her watching him.

"Oh, Leggy. I love you," she sighed wistfully. "And I just know that, if we met, you would love me too."

And he would. She just _knew_ it. He would love her! Not because he would be smitten by her great beauty, or entranced by the vibrant hue of her eyes which had inspired her name. Not because he would be struck dumb with desire for her slender willowy form, or marvel at how good she looked in her knockoff Hilfiger jeans. Not even because he would be impressed with her vast knowledge of Middle Earth, and her unique ability to resist the pull of the One Ring where others could not.

No. Leggy would love her because … because … er, because …

Oh what did it matter why he loved her? He just would. He _had_ to! Only he could stave off the misery she endured in her normal life. It was not easy being perfect in modern Britain. Especially a perfect teenage girl. A gifted student, Sapphire spoke fourteen languages, was a black belt in Tae Kwon Do, and had recently mastered the ancient art of … pottery.

Ahem.

But was she popular? No! Girls her own age were jealous of her beauty, her body, her flawless peaches-and-cream complexion. They constantly bitched and spread nasty rumours about her. One even claimed her looks were only the result of extensive plastic surgery.

Girls could be _so_ vicious.

In fact the only friend Sapphire had, in school or out of it, was Cecilia Winterbottom. Cecilia was her neighbour's daughter - a girl with such terrible halitosis, that she was even less popular than Sapphire. And the only reason Cecilia had overcome her jealousy of her unbelievably gorgeous neighbour was because Sapphire had scaled a tree to save the other girl's overweight cat after it got stuck there last summer. As for boys … Sapphire shuddered. They were only interested in 'getting her kegs off'.

So Leggy _had_ to love her. He absolutely _had _to! Only he could ease her desperate loneliness. Only he could bring light to her dark existence. Only he could understand her …

Well, anyway. At least she'd be able to win over his family and friends with her charming personality. Being elves, _they_ wouldn't object to her perfection, so Leggy needn't be embarrassed to introduce her to his dad as a future daughter-in-law. And if Thranduil was a bit pissed at losing his son to a mortal? Not a problem; he'd get over it when she stunned him with her fluent Sindarin and flattened all of Mirkwood's enemies with one kick of her shapely leg. Daddy-in-law wouldn't even have to worry about supporting her, because she'd open Middle Earth's first ever designer pottery shop and make an absolute killing! People would come from all over Arda to buy a Sapphire Greenleaf original.

In fact, she would be richer, more popular and far more beautiful than even Arwen Undomiel! Hell, if she wasn't careful, she'd have to fight off the advances of Thranduil himself, not to mention every other red-blooded elven male in Mirkwood.

If elves _had _red blood, that was. It might be green, like a Vulcan's. Which wouldn't be the only thing they had in common - Spock had pointy ears too.

Red, green … whatever. A deliciously warm feeling infused her nonetheless at the thought of being gallantly wooed by so many handsome elves. Lucky for Leggy she would have crystal blue eyes only for him …

A sharp knock intruded on her delightful fantasy, pulling her back to the reality of her London bedroom. Sapphire dropped the brush and rose from her bed in one fluid motion; her glorious waterfall of coppery hair swinging in a graceful arc as she turned to face the door. It opened to reveal her portly father.

"Sapphy, love, would you do your old dad a favour and take the dog out before supper? He's whining at the door again."

"Daddy! Can't you stop calling me 'Sapphy'?" she complained with a fetching pout. "You know how I hate it."

"The dog, Sapphy," repeated her father, unmoved by her whinge. "Killer's clawing the front door down. Take him out before he shits all over the hall carpet and your mum has a hairy fit."

Sapphire squirmed. It was a good thing Leggy's sense of hearing was limited to the confines of his glossy poster. "Do you have to use language like that, Daddy? Why can't you say 'poo's' or 'loosens his bowels' or something?" she squeaked, mortified at her father's rough language. "And why can't you or Roger take him out? Or Mum, if she's so worried about the carpet. I did it last night."

Mr Blue frowned impatiently. "Your brother's off to his Astronomy club in two minutes. Your mum's watching an Eastenders omnibus, so it'll be a bloody miracle if she moves before Christmas, which leaves me to make the supper. _Your_ supper, I might add. So if you want it, stop complaining, get your coat on, and do as you're told."

He gave her a stern look and moved to leave, but paused to add, "And the day I start talking about 'poo', little Miss Hygiene, is the day Her Madge invites me to Buckingham Palace for a knees up with the family." With that, he departed, leaving her to grumble in annoyance as she collected her Trendy parka. Already she could hear the dog barking up a storm. Stupid mutt.

"Namarie, cund vuin. Nan lû e-govaded vîn," whispered Sapphire breathily to her beloved poster. She blew her prince a kiss before slipping downstairs.

At the foot of the stairs, Sapphire found Killer throwing himself frantically against the front door in his desperation to get outside.

"All right, all right. Keep you hair on," she moaned, cursing geeky Roger and his stupid Astronomy club. Her brother always managed to weasel his way out of walking the dog. A guy thing, probably, because - despite his scary name - Killer was a Yorkshire terrier, and therefore about as butch as a pink fairy.

Grabbing the leash - and the plastic bag her dad had kindly left for her to scoop up Killer's muck with - Sapphire snapped it on the mutt's collar, opened the front door, and stepped out into the chilly early October evening. Fortunately, it was at least dry, but she still shivered delicately. For a moment she debated whether or not to go back inside and collect her scarf and gloves, until Killer started yapping again. Resigned to getting it over and done with, she zipped the parka up tight, shut the door behind her, and headed out into the twilight with the baying brute jerking at the leash.

Down the busy lane they walked to the crossroads. As the stunningly attractive Sapphire breezed past the local newsagents in an expensive cloud of Chanel No. 19 (which she'd pinched from her mother), a spotty teenager leaving the shop dropped half a dozen eggs on the ground and stood panting after her.

"Hello, gorgeous," he shouted. "Fancy a shag?"

Sapphire rolled her incredibly blue eyes in disdain. "Hello fugly. Fancy a wheelchair?" she retorted acidly. "Or a bottle of Clearasil?"

Stung, the boy stuck two fingers up at her back, but she was already well ahead of him, and so missed the sweet gesture.

Men! Why were they so base? She'd bet her Special Extended Edition of her Lord of The Rings trilogy that Legolas would never woo a maiden with that stupid chat-up line. _Fancy a shag! _Hell, even the rough-and-tumble Rohirrim would mind their p's and q's in the presence of a lady.

If only she lived in Middle Earth, where men were _men_, and elves were even better! In Middle Earth, there was no little brother to shirk his responsibilities; no uncouth father with the mouth of a public toilet; no uncaring mother who'd rather lose herself in the fictional dramas of two-dimensional characters than those of her own gorgeous daughter. In Middle Earth she wouldn't have to worry about jealous rivals besmirching her character. In fact, at sixteen, she'd probably already be married to Leggy - maybe even have an elfling on the way! Thranduil would of course celebrate the occasion by throwing a party in his woodland realm and she - Princess Sapphire - would be beating off dance partners with a wizard's staff. Probably Gandalf's. Or maybe Radagast's - he lived nearby.

Killer stopped at a lamppost to cock his leg and Sapphire waited impatiently for him to finish his business. On the road nearby, someone tooted their horn. At her of course. She was easily the best-looking thing on the street. A middle-aged man's throaty yell confirmed her suspicion. "Give us a kiss, darling!"

She yelled at him in response. "I'm sixteen, you rotten paedophile! Bugger off before I call the police!"

To give merit to her threat, Sapphire pulled her mobile phone from her parka pocket and waved it at him. The man rolled up his window and rather obligingly buggered off as fast as his Volvo would allow.

With his business finished, Killer tugged on the leash and Sapphire let him lead the way to the crossing. She pressed the button at the traffic lights and stared idly ahead while she waited. From this short distance, she could see the park entrance on the other side of the road. Its tall iron gates were flanked by two enormous trees, and behind them was a completely different world of foliage, serenity and stillness. All that lay between her and it was the crossing at which she stood and the few dozen cars that would soon have to stop to give her right of way. Killer crouched obediently on his hindquarters, and Sapphire's thoughts travelled back to Leggy-land as they waited.

Wouldn't it be great if, when she passed between those trees, her golden-haired prince jumped down from one of them and declared his intention to take her away from this mundane existence? To save her from spotty youths and pervy old men? To show her what it meant to be admired for one's perfection, instead of being shunned for it? Would he declare his love for her straight away? Get down on one knee as he proposed? Or would he be so overcome with desire for her that he would simply sweep her into his arms? Kiss her so passionately that she melted against his athletic body, leaving him to support her miniscule weight with a super-strong pinkie?

She sighed, only half-aware of the high-pitched peeping that indicated the green man was now alight. Killer yapped once and tugged at the leash. Sapphire allowed him to lead her onto the road and she dawdled in a daze past more tooting horns, lusty yells, and - this time - several irritated cries; no doubt from jealous wives and girlfriends. She was barely half-way across when the green man started flashing, but so lost in her delicious daydream of Leggy delights was she, that Sapphire missed it until Killer started yapping with furious intent.

"We're nearly there, mutt," she said dreamily, before sinking back into another imaginary snogfest with her future husband.

The pavement was only a few yards away, but the green man had grown impatient with her leisurely stroll and finally abandoned his post. One floor up, the red man appeared. Again, Sapphire paid little attention - her prince had just asked her to marry him, and she was debating the merits of an immediate, positive response against letting him sweat it out for a few minutes.

If elves even sweated.

It was due to this wondrous dilemma that she ignored the presence of the red man, and the escalating yells and tooting of horns.

Let them yell and toot all they liked! Sapphire Blue was destined for bigger and better things than life as some hairy bloke's backseat bi-atch. Somehow or other, Sapphire Blue was heading for eternal princess-dom with the buffest bloke ever to don a pair of very tight leggings - and no mere mortal would stop her!

Finally, one horn blared so loudly that Killer jerked in fright and broke free from her grip. Annoyed beyond belief, she stopped in her tracks to scream "Get a girlfriend, loser!" to the offending male, only to discover - much too late - that it was not the appreciative sound of a yet another admirer, but the warning honk of a 4 x 4 …

She didn't have time to scream before it hit her.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Translation:

Namarie, cund vuin. Nan lû e-govaded vîn - Farewell, my prince. Until next we meet (source: Merin Essi ar Quenteli! ).


	2. The hand of Fate

**Disclaimer:** Lord of the Rings is not mine. Unfortunately. I can claim ownership of nothing and no one more than Sapphire Blue and her family. Anything recognisable belongs to JRRT and I am certainly not profiting from it in any way. Anything crap belongs to me (and I'm not profiting from that either, more's the pity).

**Credit: **www dot Tuckborough dot net,

*** **Rated for language, gore and some innuendo.

**Sapphire Blue: Mary-Sue Extraordinaire**

**Chapter Two**

* * *

Amid the mists of the Overworld, two entities in shifting robes stared curiously at the prone form they had summoned before them

To any mere human being on the planet proper, Sapphire Blue would appear to lie twisted on the road; receiving first aid from the very youth who had invited her to join him in a shag (he having followed her from the newsagents and now enthusiastically applying the snog, er, _kiss_ of life to her mangled, but still stunning, lips); yet it was not so. In reality, Sapphire was on display before powers her tiny (but gloriously beautiful) mind could never hope to comprehend. Whatever spark of existence that remained of her, now hovered between the dimensions of Life and Death, and only the entities present could dictate her journey from there.

For these were no ordinary entities: these were two of the Fates of Men.

One of the enigmatic beings circled Sapphire's devastated body. Though human in appearance, it was genderless - as were all of the Fates. Tall and thin, it glided effortlessly around the vast white chamber, its black and silver robe whispering silently over a ground that was both there, yet not.

"Even near death itself, she is astonishingly beautiful," it said conversationally.

The other Fate, clad in white and gold, smirked. "Despite her ravaged eye?"

Black Fate lifted an eyeball, dangling from the shattered socket by its optic nerve, and fingered it admiringly. "Despite this. One cannot refute the allure of its shading. 'Tis most becoming."

White Fate laughed. "Ever you astonish me with your little eccentricities. Tell me: why have you summoned this mortal to our home?"

The eyeball was released, and fell back onto its owner's face with a squelch. Black raised its cowled head. "Because she amuses me."

White approached the girl and regarded her broken form. "You cannot be in earnest. We have both travelled her thoughts, and there was never aught there but foolishness. She spent her precious life in a haze of ignorance, yearning for that which she could never have; indulged in naught but superficiality and fantasy for most of her sentience. How can she possibly amuse you, when she so repulses me?"

"Because you are White where I am Black, and ever you disagree with my opinion."

"That is not so," objected White.

"Is it not? Where I see night, you see day; where I say 'yes', you say 'no'; when I choose up, you choose down. Do not take slight, friend," Black held up a long-fingered hand at White's disgruntled expression, "I say only that which you already know."

The frown disappeared from White's face. "Perhaps you speak a grain of truth, friend," it conceded reluctantly. "Yet you have still not explained why the child amuses you. Pray, do not hold me in suspense any longer."

Black smiled. "It surprises me that you cannot already guess. As you have stated, we both have travelled her thoughts. Did you see naught there to interest you?"

Its companion now circled the girl, and the curl of White's lip indicated its opinion before it was voiced.

"I saw naught but self-absorption and conceit."

"Then you did not delve deeply enough into her mind, friend," remarked Black lightly.

"There was little enough of it to delve into, _friend,_" quipped White immediately.

The Fates laughed.

"But do you not see? That is what so intrigues me about the mortal," resumed Black upon sobering. "She has walked through life with no real concept of its meaning. Though she has been gifted with intelligence, she has not applied it in any way that would prove beneficial to her fellow man. With her gifts, one such as she might be counted as worthy among her kind; yet she spends her days lamenting her fate, bemoaning her kindred, and gazing at a poor facsimile of one she can never have."

"'Tis not unusual in one so young. She is but a child, and most mortal children her age readily succumb to their own selfish desires," said White disdainfully. "This girl would ever have remained so, had she lived. I have seen into her heart, friend; she was not one of those fortunate few who would ever outgrow her own conceit."

Black tipped its head to the side and regarded its companion thoughtfully. "You speak as though she were already dead, yet you know that is not so."

White paused in its stroll around the girl and pointed at her chest. "You believe that she will survive _this_?"

It indicated the tattered parka and t-shirt, beneath which her once flat torso had caved in under the impact of the 4x4's grille. Just below her bosom, where flesh was still intact, was the imprint of two words in mirror image.

"_Land Rover_," murmured White. A crooked smile lit its face. "Do you imagine that refers to the vehicle which hit her, or might it be a testament to her lack of chastity?"

"The child is a maiden, friend," said Black with a hint of coolness, "as you are well aware."

"Given her obsession with the opposite sex, 'tis a wonder she has managed to exist for so many years with her virtue intact," retorted White smugly.

Black sighed. "She is not obsessed with the opposite sex - at least not all of them. Merely one in particular."

"Ah, yes; you refer to her tedious fantasies of an elven prince from Ages past. The child is a fool! Her prince would rather die ere he ever declared his love for such an insipid female." White resumed its circuitous route around their oblivious guest. "But that is of no consequence now; your little friend is but a breath or two from death herself - she will never meet her prince now."

"Is that so?"

The question gave White pause, and it tore its gaze from the child in time to see Black wave a hand over her ruined body.

"No! Desist! You cannot interfere with her destiny."

It was too late. Flesh was already knitting together, eye was cradled once more in socket and clothing had magically repaired itself. Within seconds Sapphire Blue was whole once more, though still unconscious before the Fates. White eyed its companion in disapproval.

"You aught not to have done that."

Its companion was unconcerned. "You aught not to have challenged me."

White's jaw dropped. "Challenge you? I did no such thing!"

"'_Her prince would rather die ere he ever declared his love for such an insipid female'_," quoted Black lazily, admiring his handiwork in restoring the human girl. "_'Your little friend … will never meet her prince now'_."

Black lifted its head to stare at its opposite; White was clenching its jaw in deep irritation.

"What mean you by this? What is your intent?" It studied its companion's smooth features carefully as it spoke, seeking to unmask its intentions. Realisation dawned. "You would send the girl to her prince? You cannot mean it!"

"And why not?"

"No one can play with fate in this manner. No one!"

"Ah, but we _are_ Fate - or at least _part_ of it. So where is the crime if we play with ourselves?"

White emitted a long-suffering huff as Black laughed at the innuendo: the girl had been but mere minutes in their company and already its companion was showing signs of her heathen influence.

Black composed itself enough to elaborate on its plan. "You say that her heart's love would never consider her as a life mate; I say you are wrong. Would you not find it as amusing as I to discover which of us err in our judgement?"

"Amusing? It is not our place to interfere in what may or may not be - and most assuredly not for the purpose of our own sport! It is our duty only to discern whether she will live or die, and send her forth down the relevant Path."

"You had already deemed she would travel the Path of Death."

"Her injuries were too great to sustain her life force any longer!"

"Her spark was yet strong enough to respond to the healers of her world. We cannot know for certain if she would have perished or not."

White pointed an accusing finger at the sumptuous creature before them. "We may know it now, for you have seen to it!" it scoffed.

"This discussion is pointless. The girl now lives - as she may well have done without our interference -"

"Without _your_ interference," said White pointedly.

Black sighed heavily. "Very well: without _my_ interference. Be that as it may; she lives now, and therefore cannot remain here any longer. If she must travel any Path, then why not one of her choosing? Let us indulge her this once."

"Indulge her?" gasped White incredulously.

"Must you always echo my words so? Yes, indulge her." Black approached the comatose beauty and lifted a strand of her coppery hair. It felt like silk between its long fingers. "We have laboured long in our duties, friend; would you not agree?"

"Eons uncounted," affirmed White, caught of guard by the unexpected change of topic, and wondering what its companion was up to now.

"And we have done our duty well, though it taxes us greatly. From Age to Age we have watched as mortals seed, bloom and inevitably fade; ever striving to achieve a greatness that is naught when compared to Creation itself. 'Tis arduous work to master patience when faced with their small achievements. But we do it because we must; for all mortals fade eventually, and who shall see them on their Paths if not us?"

"Your point?"

Black's lips tilted in a slow, mischievous smile. "I am bored. I yearn for a little amusement to distract me from the tedium of my existence."

White stared at its companion in disbelief, too stunned to respond. Black ran pale fingers through the girl's luscious locks one more time before dropping them. It turned to face the speechless White Fate.

"You seem surprised."

"I am certainly shocked. One of the Fates, bored by its duties? 'Tis unthinkable!"

"Come now, friend. 'Tis not so very unthinkable. We have existed as long as the universe itself. Is it so unlikely that one may tire of the monotony of its duties after six billion years?"

"And so the reason for your irrational behaviour now becomes clear: you wish to be diverted from your … boredom." White shook its head in disbelief.

"I wish only a moment's entertainment, friend. A whim to indulge in, that I may continue to face my duties, but be ever refreshed because of it. Is that so very much to ask?"

White's shrewd gaze flickered from Black to the mortal female. "'Tis unusual, at the very least, though perhaps not so much to ask, if diversion is truly required. But that you choose_ this _method of diversion! Would you not rather ponder the meaning of life, or perhaps attempt to interpret the riddle of the Skarabreth Cluster?"

The offer was acknowledged with a chuckle.

"As wondrous as any of those choices may be, they are mysteries which will only serve to test my patience. Forgive me, but I must pass on your offer. What I require at present is something a little less … intellectual."

"Then I am no longer surprised by your chosen diversion," drawled White with a touch of sarcasm as its gaze settled on Sapphire. "One would have to search the universe and beyond to find anything less intellectual than this vapid female."

Black shrugged. "The child is an ideal subject. Her desires will not distract us overmuch from our duties. She only wishes to fall into Middle Earth and win the heart of her fair prince. You say she cannot achieve this. I say she can. Do you agree to a wager?"

Despite its acknowledgement of Black's need for entertainment, White was still dissatisfied with the manner in which it was to be delivered.

"I cannot believe you intend to proceed with your sport," it exclaimed in disgust. "This vain chit has squandered her life in a haze of narcissistic self-absorption, and you would now reward her for it by fulfilling her heart's desire?"

"It is not our duty to judge her, White."

"It is our _duty_ to send her on a Path, Black!"

"I have every intention of sending her on a Path, friend," growled Black, feeling a little disgruntled by its companion's belligerence. "'Tis merely that her Path will be a little … different … than usual."

"You are determined to choose her, I see?"

"I am."

White persisted. "Are you certain I may not tempt you with some other method of diversion? A brief visit with Red perhaps? You may while a hundred or so years away in its company studying the rise and fall of the Scribes of Daltomar - I know how much you enjoy watching the Atraxans blow up their own planet."

It was a magnanimous offer: one hundred years was but a drop in time for the Fates, but Black's absence, even for a mere century, would still leave White with twice the workload.

"I have made my choice."

"You will not be swayed?"

"Not for all the souls in Creation."

"You are certain."

It was not a question, but a statement of resignation. Black nodded its response.

White clenched its jaw. "Very well."

The reluctant Fate suppressed its irritation when Black smiled in satisfaction. What its companion Fate was proposing was ludicrous! To spurn the mysteries of the universe in favour of sport with an undeserving mortal? Were it one more worthy of the attention then, yes, White would agree wholeheartedly. But to fulfil the female's deepest desires based on no more than a whim?

Insupportable!

Yet it had agreed to Black's request, and to renege on the agreement now would be dishonourable. Still, that did not mean that all had to unfold as Black thought it may …

Feeling a little more heartened, White approached the unconscious girl, laid a hand on her forehead, and spoke in a low, soft voice.

"It seems that fortune smiles on you this day, child."

Black grinned wider.

"You wish to fall into Middle Earth and meet your prince, do you not?"

From the depths of her coma, Sapphire opened her perfect rosebud lips and responded with a dreamy sigh. "Fall into Middle Earth. Where men are _men_, and elves are even better …"

Rolling its eyes in disgust, White continued. "And your desire is to meet your beloved elf, is it not?"

"Ooh, Leggy. Kiss me again, sweet prince." Sapphire made smacking noises with her lips before falling (mercifully) silent once more.

"Then so be it. And if, against all of my expectations, you manage to win the heart of your sweet prince, then I shall grant you a life as long as his, that you may spend it together in blissful delight."

Black's jaw fell in surprise. "You would grant this?"

"Have I not said so?" replied White smoothly. Black's eyes narrowed.

"_Why_ would you grant this? You find the child abhorrent."

"But you have much faith in her. And _I_ have much faith in _you_, friend. So if you believe this mortal can overcome her numerous shortcomings to win the hand of one as noble and proud as Legolas Greenleaf, then she deserves to spend eternity with him, does she not?"

"And if she does not achieve this? What would you ask of me in payment for your faith?"

White smiled innocently. "I ask no more of you than to allow me to determine her path thereafter. Life or Death, as I see fit."

An unsuspecting Black flashed magnificent pearly whites in response. "With such a prize at stake, let the games begin!"

And so they converged on the magnificent specimen of womanhood that lay before them. White looked at Black and both nodded. Black gazed upon his chosen one a final time, confident that she would prevail. "Fate shall ever be with you, pretty Princess Sapphire."

Together, Black and White joined hands over her luscious body and closed their eyes. When they opened them again, she was gone.

**000**

Sapphire Blue was having the most wonderful dream of her life. She was dreaming that it was her wedding day.

_Her wedding day!_

Or maybe it wasn't a dream? She couldn't actually remember falling asleep ...

In which case, this was not a dream. It was reality.

Yippee!

She had done it! Against all the odds, Sapphire Blue - a bona fide nobody from nowheresville - had somehow managed to fall into Middle Earth, actually snare her elf, and was about to embark on a lifetime of unbelievably ethereal perfection with the fittest bloke in Arda.

Life was good.

She fingered the modestly cut, floor-length robe of finest ivory silk she found herself wearing, admiring its scoop neckline and gold-and-silver-threaded hems. It had been gifted to her by her BFF, the Queen of Gondor, just for the occasion. Arwen had sewn it with her very own hands! Sapphire's hair spilled becomingly down her back, bare of decoration but for the silver and sapphire circlet resting at the top of her head.

Turning first left, then right, Sapphire admired the custom-made gown in the large mirror; it kissed her fabulous body as lovingly as her husband would surely do that very evening.

"You are as fair as a new Spring morn," said a musical voice from somewhere behind her. Sapphire pirouetted elegantly to see her elven lady-in-waiting watching her with grudging approval. "It will be difficult for even an elleth to outshine you."

The lovely elf bore an air of defeat that spoke volumes. Stirred (almost) to pity, the beauteous Sapphire smiled sweetly. "Never mind, love. Maybe I'll fall flat on my face and rip my dress in front of everyone, eh? That should cheer you up."

Though it was unlikely. Not only she was better-looking than any elleth in Mirkwood (or anywhere else in Arda), she had a natural grace that made _them_ look about as light on their feet as a pregnant elephant.

Returning her gaze to the mirror, she found that it - and the bedroom she had so recently stood in - had disappeared. Instead, she found herself in a wide, flower-filled clearing. On either side were humans, dwarves, and rows of elves from all over Mirkwood - now Greenwood the Great once more. Their colourful, floaty finery, and the summer wreaths and jewels in their silken tresses, made them look like a sea of delicate flowers. Her guests, perhaps?

Thinking no more of the strange circumstance that had transported her from one place to another in the blink of an eye, Sapphire let her gaze travel up the aisle between the wedding guests and fasten on her beau: Legolas stood before the dais which currently passed as an alter. He gasped in delight at the picture of absolute perfection she presented. She blushed modestly at the naked desire in his eyes.

_Hold your horses, Leggy baby. You can rip my kegs off later - and in private, if you please._

Oddly enough, Thranduil was presiding over the ceremony itself. Sapphire wracked her brains, trying to recall if she'd read anything in her Lord of the Rings books which would validate his authority to do so, but she found nothing.

Oh, well. Maybe that's how it worked here. And if sea captains were able to double as vicars, why shouldn't elven monarchs be able to? Though, truth be told, Thranduil looked more than a little bizarre dressed in holy vestments. Who knew they had dog collars in Middle Earth?

Shrugging it off, she put one pointy-slippered foot forward as the harpist began to strum his instrument, and floated up the aisle towards her destiny. Occasionally she would nod or smile at an admiring guest, thrilled at the attention they lavished on her.

"Wondrous fair!" murmured a male voice. Sapphire looked up through her long coppery lashes to see a handsome blonde man in green-and-gold bowing at her.

Éomer! It had to be!

Thrilled that the King of Rohan was in attendance at her wedding, she offered him a sweet smile. Encouraged by her response, Éomer dropped her a suggestive wink. Sapphire blinked, certain she had misinterpreted the gesture, but no! He did it again!

Cheeky bugger! And on her wedding day, too!

Fuming, she hissed; "Watch it, randy-man, or I'll kick your family allowance up into your nostrils. You'll be sneezing bollocks for a week."

He paled significantly and adopted a more neutral expression. Sapphire smirked when he also crossed his legs.

Satisfied with his silent promise of good behaviour, she resumed her walk up the aisle, oblivious to all else but the golden head of her future husband.

Until her eyes fell on identical twin faces of utter perfection.

Elladan and Elrohir!

Delighted the dishy sons of Elrond had come to see her on her big day, Sapphire beamed at them. They grinned at her in unison. As she passed, one of the dark-haired duo slipped her a piece of paper. Confused, she opened it up and read:

_Fairest Sapphire, jewel of Greenwood,_

_Legolas excels with his knives, but his shot with the bow has been known to fall short of its intended target. If your wedding night leaves you lamenting his marksmanship, call us on 02087 123456. My brother and I are ever at your disposal - whether individually or together, as you wish._

_Elladan of Imladris._

Of all the nerve! Had they just suggested she participate in a twin sandwich? With _them_? And slighting her Leggy's prowess in the sack - er, on the archery field - too!

So outraged was she, that Sapphire dropped the paper, marched over to them, and smacked their identical heads together.

"Bloody twats! You're elves. _Elves! _You're supposed to be above this sort of thing! And Leggy's your _friend!_"

They were too dazed to respond.

"As for his archery skills; not that it's any of your business, but I'll take my chances. Better a stray shot than a dose of gonorrhoea from a pair of man-tarts!"

Disgusted, she turned away from them. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Sapphire smoothed down her dress, fetchingly flicked her coppery locks back over her shoulder, and resumed her date with destiny.

She did not get far. Just as she passed what could only be the dwarven contingent, a red-haired dwarf in a bright silver corslet addressed her in a gruff whisper.

"Lady Sapphire, pause. Reflect. What can the elfling offer you that I cannot? Your legendary beauty shall be smothered betwixt these cursed, cloying trees! Come, leave with me now and let me show you the wonder of the Glittering Caves. Put their glory to shame with the wonder of your fairness! Allow your sweet presence in my home to banish from memory the elven witch of Lothlórien. And allow me, my beloved, to bonk you into senseless ecstasy for the rest of our mortal lives!"

Sapphire had never been so stunned in all her sixteen years. True, she was the most magnificent creature anyone was ever likely to lay eyes on, but really! This was a step too far. Gimli the dwarf had just betrayed his best friend by declaring his intention to _bonk his bride into senseless ecstasy for the rest of their mortal lives!_ Where on earth had he picked up a term like _that_? It _definitely_ wasn't in the books.

Sparing no time to debate the matter, she stalked over to the besotted dwarf, ready to slap the pint-sized pervert all the way back to his glittery caverns. Unfortunately, she was in too much of a righteous fury to notice that Gimli had left his walking axe at the side of the aisle. Before she knew it, the hem of her beautiful dress snagged on the handle and Sapphire was falling.

And falling.

And falling …

The sensation of descending at terrific speed roused her from what _had_ been a dream, after all. Sapphire's eyes flew open and, terrified, she realised she was plummeting through blue skies. In a useless effort to stay airborne, she flapped her arms, but to no avail. Sky receded and distant mountains drew ever nearer.

Down, down, down she fell, screaming all the way. Wind ripped at her parka and she clung on to it, hoping it would at least cushion her fall if she landed on the rocks, or in a field, or worse.

It did not.

But something else did.

_Splash!_

Against all odds, her fall was cushioned by a lake. Coughing and spluttering, she rose from the water in a sopping mess, her hair plastered to her face and sticking to her parka. Sapphire pulled herself from the lake and flopped onto the ground, too dazed to wonder why she had defied gravity and survived such a lethal drop intact. After taking a few minutes to catch her breath, she rolled onto her back and pushed herself into a sitting position. Gorgeous blue eyes swept the landscape.

Where the bloody hell was she?

The lake before her was shaped like a spear, with tall, dark mountains directly to its north. Green slopes led to its shores and it stretched off into the distance, leading on to merry spring at its southern edge.

Wait a minute: mountains in the north, lake shaped like a spear …

Hope robbed her of breath as she (instantly) realised what this meant.

Mirrormere!

No. It couldn't be.

But what if it was? What if God or Buddha or whoever was up there realised what a mistake they'd made by sticking her in London with a foul-mouthed father when she had always been destined for …

Middle Earth!

And _Leggy!_

Ohmigosh. Ohmigoshohmigoshohmigosh! She was going to meet her prince. He would take one look at her and declare his undying love (which, for an elf, was _forever_). Sweep her into his arms and carry her away to Mirkwood on Arod's back (leaving Gimli in their dusty wake). They would be married within a week! Have half-elf babies within a year (who would naturally take their stunning looks from her)! And she would be _Princess Sapphire!_

The thought made her giddy.

But what if he was shy? What if her beauty intimidated him into avoiding her?

Easily solved. She would show him that she was as approachable as anyone else. It might be a good idea to prove this by temporarily pretending to hate his guts. That would snap him out of his lustful fugue for a while. They would argue passionately for no good reason; he would glower at her, torn between anger and desire as he tried to figure out why she detested him. She would flounce off with a toss of her glossy hair, wanting nothing more than to admit how much she loved him, but waiting for him to say it first. People would marvel at her ability to withstand the obvious attractions of an immortal elf, but she would pooh-pooh them by saying 'Elf, schmelf. A bloke's a bloke, and I treat them all the same.'

Like crap.

But in the end, they would be drawn to each other, an attraction that neither of them would be able to fight. Leggy would sweep her into his embrace and demand that she love him, before capturing her not-so-protesting lips in a timeless smackerooni …

Sapphire swooned. Could it be true? Was this the Big Man's celestial apology to her? It would certainly explain why, despite the water, she hadn't shattered on impact. But she needed to be sure …

If this _was_ Middle Earth, and that lake _was_ Mirrormere, then she should be able to see the reflection of Durin's crown in the water.

Hardly daring to hope, she crawled back to the water's edge and gazed into a pool of liquid almost as blue as her own startlingly-hued eyes. At first, the surface of the lake rippled before her, but slowly it smoothed itself out. Gradually she caught the shape of a dark reflection on the surface. Her parka, probably.

But - wait a minute … it was a uniform darkness, not confined to her torso and arms. The neck was dark too. In fact, as a head and shoulders appeared, she saw that they were too. An ugly, blunt face with sharp yellowed teeth and straggly, matted hair stared back up at her.

There was no denying it: she was in Middle Earth - and about to be assaulted by a massive orc!

With death-defying speed, she whipped around to confront her would-be attacker. No bloody mutant was going to rob her of her chance to meet her prince …

The grassy slope behind her was clear of any and all other life-forms.

Confused, Sapphire looked into the water again. Yep, the orc was still there. Perhaps it was a trick of the light? She lifted a delicate hand to stir the water …

Except the hand was not delicate. It was huge. And mottled. With claw-like nails.

No. Nonononono. It couldn't be …

More alarmed than she had ever been in her life, she bent over the water again. Her ugly friend reappeared at exactly the same moment. With her heart banging rapidly against her chest, she lifted a hand and waved it in front of her face.

As did her reflection.

Repulsed and traumatised, with all hope of marathon shagfests with Leggy now rapidly slipping into the realm of improbability, she opened her mouth and screamed like a distraught German fan at the end of the 1966 World Cup Final.

Sapphire Blue, sexpot supreme, had finally realised her deepest desire and fallen into Middle Earth - in the form of an _orc!_ The irony of it made her howl even louder. Leggy would never look at her now!

Unless it was just before he nocked his arrow.

And somewhere, high above in the Overworld, the White Fate laughed ...

**THE END**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_Author's Note_: Oh, no! Poor Sapphire. Not _quite_ how she pictured spending her time in Middle Earth. Still, it's no less than every Mary-Sue deserves! And let that be a lesson to them all!

Kara's Aunty :)


End file.
